all the things we never said
by ignite my revolution
Summary: balladry [whimsical, aesthetic, harry potter poetry]
1. silhouettes

[narcissa malfoy]

scarlet is the colour of many things —

the lipstick she is so fond of, that perfects her mask of ice, sealing everything into place before it melts,

the banner of the house she used to watch so forlornly, envy evident in her cold, cold eyes

 _(the blood that stains her husband's hands, dripping and cold, it seeps onto her own as their fingers intertwine)_

vivacious and bright, stark against the paleness of her skin, she's become accustomed to thinking the whole world can see it

to thinking the whole world can see her for who she is.

 _what she is._

she has to remind herself now that it all is hidden —

that all the world sees is another pretty face, another demure smile

that what happens behind closed doors, that what secrets are exchanged are just that —

 _hidden._

for behind that vivid scarlet lies nothing but a shadow

paper-thin, the truth long gone.


	2. the ones who go unseen

[ariana dumbledore]

 _a girl made of nothing_

 _nothing they can see, of course_

 _with sweet demure eyes_

 _far too wide for this world_

 _/_

 _always in the shadows_

 _tucked away, shameful thing_

 _"do not let them see you_

 _for the neighbors will talk"_

 _/_

 _[you pretend not to hear_

 _the things they say_

 _your smile is innocent_

 _but far too strained]_

 _/_

 _what has your life become?_

 _face pressed against the window_

 _reaching out to touch the sky_

 _but it's futile,_

 _all of it._

 _/_  
 _your own mother is ashamed_

 _your brothers do not care_

 _both brilliant, talented, magical_

 _everything you are not_

 _/_  
 _and so that smile withers_

 _for it cannot thrive without light_

 _lips pressed into a line_

 _tears no longer stifled_

 _/_  
 _you do not care who sees_

 _let them say what they will_

 _for one day you will fade away_

 _and no one will remember_

 _/_  
 _[not everyone's life has meaning_

 _some people come and go_

 _and as it's as though_

 _they were never_

 _there]_


	3. those who dare

[marlene mckinnon and sirius black]

red lipstick stains the hearts she's broken, crimson, dark, and cold.

stones crumble beneath her feet, and her eyes burn bright gold

as the wind attempts to catch her untamed, flowing dark hair,

but she knows no limits, walking this world without a care

many want to seize her, this wicked, wild tempest of a girl.

to which she scoffs and smiles, letting her flames unfurl

/

 _"let them try,"_ she challenges.

[and every one of them fails]

/

there are some who speak of angels, when they see her face

but upon further look, they shall find hardly a trace —

for angels are demure, polished to perfection

and she is unhinged, pulled in a thousand different directions.

but him, _he_ is different, not like every boy she's passed

for when he sees her wicked eyes, he simply nods and laughs

he takes her breath away, for when he sees her fire

he combats it with his own flame that she cannot help but admire

/

[for he is wild and reckless and uncontrolled and free—

so she does not add him to her list of broken hearts

but rather, she allows him to finally mend hers.]


	4. verum

[luna lovegood]

they say you're a girl

living in a

make-believe world

always whispering to

yourself so they think

you can't hear them —

but you can.

/

[ _look at her, she's_

 _crazy, she's not_

 _right in the head always_

 _talking to someone_

 _who's not_

 _there]_

/

the wise say to

ignore them, "don't

listen to them, it's

not important."

and you remind yourself

that, each and every time,

but sometimes you can't help

but wonder if

they're right.

/

 _[hands splayed on the_

 _window, chattering with_

 _your reflection, not_

 _because you are crazy even_

 _if that's what they say but_

 _because she is the only_

 _one who will_

 _listen.]_

/

one day it's not

that mirror-girl who

nods along to your voice

but someone else, someone

different, and he looks

just as confused because,

you realize, he is seeing something

that is not there, and when he

looks to you, you smile,

not because you are _odd_

but because

you are no longer alone.


	5. intoxication

[bellatrix lestrange]

 _you don't understand, do you?_

everything has a price.

power drips like honey from your lips, sticky, sickly sweet.

it's all a rush, electricity at your fingertips — until it's not.

for take what you will, and taste what you want, but no power is limitless.

you might be a queen, seated upon a throne of gold, but all of that gold is _gilded._

what lies beneath is fragile as glass, and if you are not careful —

it will shatter.

the smile that graces your lips is an easy thing, one that grows wider with each taste —

but you do not realize just how quickly

it can be wiped away

for those you have destroyed, those who kneel before your throne —

they do not disappear.

they live on, in the hearts of others

and they're the last thing you see

before you

shatter.

 _[for_ _everything has a price.]_


End file.
